Love is Only for the Strong
by Lina Shay
Summary: [Finished] Ginny Weasley doesn't feel that she can go on living anymore. Goyle would do anything to find out why. Yes, it is a GinnyGoyle.
1. Strangers on the Hogwarts Express

A/N: Let me say this again, this is not like my other stories and it will be shorter.  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters so far belong to me.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter one: Strangers on the Hogwarts Express  
  
Smoke bellowed from the large scarlet train, filling platform nine and three quarters. As it was on every September first, the platform was bustling with departing students and their parents. One among them had none to see him off. Gregory Goyle's parents never had time for such things as taking him to the train station. Goyle wasn't sad about it. He was use to being ignored and neglected. That was probably why he hung around the sort he did.  
  
"Carry this, will you?" a pale blonde boy, who Goyle knew as Draco Malfoy, said as he dropped his trunk handle in front of Goyle.  
  
Goyle complied almost immediately, having a little difficulty pulling both his own and Malfoy's trunk. A stumpy-looking, but actually quite tall, boy named Vincent Crabbe with a bowl air cut followed Malfoy. Goyle dragged the two trunks onto the train after Crabbe and Malfoy. They all got into one compartment together. Goyle packed away the trunks and sat down next to Crabbe and opposite Malfoy.  
  
"So what'd you dunderheads do over Summer holiday?" Malfoy asked, a sour smile on his pointed face.  
  
"Well, I-" Goyle began, about to describe his Summer.  
  
"That's nice," Malfoy interrupted pertly. "You won't believe what happened to me over Summer. My dad and I went to this Hex Girls concert. I needed to go to the bathroom and-"  
  
Goyle looked out the window and watched the train station start to move behind them. Malfoy was sure to talk about himself the entire trip. It was his favorite pastime. Second to that was making fun of people. Goyle had other things he would rather do, but he and Crabbe always did whatever Malfoy suggested. He was the boss, after all. His dad was their dads' boss. It was just the way things were. From the moment they all met, Malfoy was ordering while Crabbe and Goyle followed. It couldn't be changed.  
  
"Can you believe that, Goyle?" Malfoy laughed.  
  
Goyle laughed just so it seemed he had been actually listening.  
  
"Who thinks we should go find Potter and hassle him a bit?" Malfoy suggested.  
  
"Sounds great!" Crabbe exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah, let's pound 'em," Goyle said, trying to please Malfoy.  
  
"All you think about is pounding," Malfoy sneered, rolling his eyes. "Some of us have more intelligent ways of dealing with people. That's what wands are for."  
  
Malfoy got up and left the compartment. As always, Crabbe and Goyle followed. They walked down the train corridor until they came upon a certain compartment. It's occupants included the famous Harry Potter with his unmistakable lightening scar, Ron Weasley sporting hand-me-down robes and bright red hair, and Hermione Granger, the fluffy-haired moodblood know-it-all. This group was a favorite of Malfoy's to torment.  
  
"What d'you want?" Weasley shot at them.  
  
"We just thought you might lend us a knut," Malfoy began. "Oh, I guess YOU wouldn't have one."  
  
"You'd better leave, Malfoy," Potter warned, pulling out his wand.  
  
"You misunderstand my intentions," Malfoy assured him. "I'm just here for a friendly visit with my old friends: Weasley, Potter, and the moodblood."  
  
"You'll pay for that!" Weasley shouted, feeling his robes for his wand.  
  
"Here," Malfoy began, flipping a sickle into the compartment. "I've paid as much as she's worth. Now, Weasley, maybe you could buy something more decent to wear, like a tablecloth."  
  
Weasley jumped at Malfoy, but Goyle quickly stepped in the way to protect one of his two only friends. Goyle was a good foot taller than Weasley, so he backed down.  
  
"I think we have overstayed our welcome," Malfoy said calmly. "See ya, Urchin, Moodblood, Orphan."  
  
"At least we have friends instead of bodyguards!" Potter yelled after them as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle walked down the corridor.  
  
"Friends instead of bodyguards," Malfoy laughed once they were back in their own compartment. "You guys ARE my friends."  
  
Goyle and Crabbe nodded.  
  
"We hang out and we talk," Malfoy listed. "What else does he expect friends to be?"  
  
Crabbe shrugged.  
  
After a few moments, Goyle's stomach began growling. That wasn't unusual. Actually, it was a quite regular thing. He seemed to want to eat every half an hour.  
  
"I'm gonna get a cauldron cake," Goyle grumbled, getting up and walking from the compartment.  
  
"Get me one, Greg," Crabbe ordered.  
  
"How 'bout I punch your lights out," Goyle shot back.  
  
"Malfoy," Crabbe squealed, "Goyle's being mean to me."  
  
"What do I care?" Malfoy laughed, sitting back and watching the two.  
  
"I wanna cauldron cake!" Crabbe yelled.  
  
"Get your own," Goyle muttered, walking down the corridor.  
  
As he approached the dining cart, he caught sight of someone near an open exit. It was a small red-headed girl. She grabbed the railing and stepped on to the stairs that would normally lead her onto the platform at the train station. Since the train was in motion, she would end up throwing herself off the train. Without a moment of thought, Goyle ran through the corridor and grabbed the girl's arm, pulling her back onto the train.  
  
"What you trying to do?" Goyle snapped at her, grabbing her shoulders.  
  
He looked at her face and recognized her as Ron Weasley's timid sister, Ginny. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were damp from crying. Goyle let go of her, now unsure what to do.  
  
"Why did you do that?" Ginny yelled, shoving Goyle with all her strength but making little progress. "Why'd you have to stop me?"  
  
"I-I just-" Goyle sputtered.  
  
Ginny began pounding her little fists against Goyle's chest, crying, "Why didn't you just let me do it? It's not fair!"  
  
Ginny lay her head on Goyle's chest, crying and still hitting him with one of her fists. Goyle glanced down the corridor to see if anyone was looking. There was no one in the entire corridor, so Goyle slowly put his arms around Ginny. Her sobs seemed to get louder and Goyle felt her tears soak through his robes.  
  
"Are you OK?" He asked stupidly.  
  
In response, Little Ginny pushed Goyle away and ran off down the corridor. Goyle stared after her until she ducked into a compartment.   
  
A/N: Short, isn't it? Well, this one's chapters will be short because...I want them to be. So there! I got Hex Girls from "Scooby Doo and the Witch's Ghost". If you want the next chapter to be put up, please review. 


	2. Food for Thought

A/N: So sorry. It had been brought to my attention that I spell Mudblood, Moodblood. So sorry. I'm not the best speller.  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Kelly Burke.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter two: Food for Thought  
  
Goyle returned to the compartment a little confused about what had just happened. First, he saves Ginny, then she cried on his shoulder, and then she runs away. Goyle figured that girls were just weird. But he couldn't stop wondering why Ginny had tried to jump. Was she unaware that the train was moving?  
  
"Where's your cake, Greg?" Crabbe asked once Goyle had sat down.  
  
"And what happened to your shirt?" Malfoy asked, raising one eyebrow.  
  
Goyle looked down at Ginny's tearing area. It was awfully wet. Of course, Ginny was crying an awful lot.  
  
"Spilt some water," Goyle explained briefly.  
  
What bothered Goyle most about his experience with Ginny was the fact that she was so upset when he saved her. What could make her so mad at the one that saved her life? It didn't make a whole lot of sense. Of course, not many things made sense to Goyle.  
The train arrived at Hogsmeade station just as the sun was disappearing behind the distant mountains. Goyle carried Malfoy's and his own trunk as he followed Malfoy up to the closest horseless carriage. Goyle packed on the trunks and climbed into the carriage. He was followed by Crabbe.  
  
"Look at him," Malfoy sneered out the window at Potter and his friends. "He thinks he's so great just because he wins a Quidditch match every once in a while and he happened to survive a curse when he was a baby."  
  
"Didn't he also defeat You-Know-Who a couple of other times?" Crabbe asked.  
  
"Shut it, you moron!" Malfoy yelled. "Did I ask you?"  
  
Crabbe shook his head.  
  
Goyle looked out the window to see little Ginny Weasley slowly dragging her trunk. That trunk seemed way to big for her to carry, but she trudged on. She looked still so terribly sad. Goyle wished he knew why?  
  
"Look at the Weasley!" Malfoy laughed. "You couldn't get uglier if you were a necrotar."  
  
Crabbe laughed, but Goyle couldn't bring himself to even pretend. Ginny looked back at them briefly, then continued on, crying.  
  
The carriages started off and Goyle felt this strange queazy feeling in the pit of his stomach. For some reason, he felt this extremely unpleasant feeling he could describe as guilt. Why would he be guilty? He hadn't said anything. He didn't even laugh at the remark.  
At the Beginning of Year feast, Goyle was feeling too horrible to eat a thing. Malfoy and Crabbe looked at him as if he had been replace by an alien. Goyle almost felt like he had. Almost everything that had happened since he got on that train seemed so weird. He would have never saved Ginny in any normal situation. Goyle wondered what about that situation made it an exception.  
  
Goyle, Crabbe and Malfoy went with many of the other students from Slytherin house down into the dungeon and to Slytherin common room.  
  
"Did you see Weasley spill custard down his front?" Malfoy chuckled as he led the way to the dormitory. "Wasn't that the funniest thing ever?"   
  
Crabbe and Goyle laughed.  
  
"I can't wait 'til we have potions," Malfoy went on. "That Neville Longbottum always makes a bloody fool of himself."  
  
Crabbe and Goyle laughed again, following Malfoy into the room that the three shared with Kelly Burke. They never minded Kelly. He mostly kept to himself.  
  
Malfoy jumped onto his bed. Goyle and Crabbe sat on Goyle's bed, facing Malfoy, sure he hadn't said all he planned on.  
  
"You know who else is a fool?" Malfoy asked.  
  
"Harry Potter?" Crabbe guessed.  
  
"Him too," Malfoy agreed. "But I was referring to that git, Dumbledore. He goes on and on, though no one really cares what he's saying."  
  
This reminded Goyle of Malfoy. He went on and on about things no one cared about. Malfoy just loved the sound of his own voice.  
  
Malfoy put his hands behind his head and lay on his back.   
  
"Get off my bed!" Goyle yelled at Crabbe.  
  
Crabbe quickly ran over to his own bed. Goyle pulled off his size fifteen boots and kicked them under his bed. He was ready to fall asleep then, but Malfoy was still awake. If Malfoy still had his eyes open and his candle lit, he had more to drone on about.  
  
"You know," Malfoy began once Goyle had gotten into his pajamas, "we should play exploding snap."  
  
It was all right. Goyle didn't mind any of the other Slytherins seeing him in his pajamas. If they said a word about it, he could just pound their brains out.  
  
"Nah, I don't want to go up to the common room," Malfoy muttered.  
  
Goyle climbed into his bed.  
  
"I have an idea!" Malfoy said, sitting up with a maniacal look on his face. "We should play a trick on the Gryffindors. But what?"  
  
Goyle tried to think of some kind of trick they could play, but his mind kept wandering to the idea of tapioca pudding. He suddenly regretted not having eaten dinner. His large stomach was begging for food.  
  
"How 'bout we put a stink bomb in their common room?" Crabbe blurted excitedly.  
  
"No, you moron!" Malfoy snapped. "We'd have to know where their common room was first."  
  
Lemon meringue pie. Peppermint humbugs. Spotted dick. Chocolate frogs. Trifle. Jam doughnuts. Treacle tarts. Goyle's mouth began to water.  
  
"I've got it!" Malfoy exclaimed. "We wait on the stairs until Potter, Weasley, and the moodblood pass under, and then we drop balloons of jam on them."  
  
"Great idea!" Crabbe praised.  
  
"I know," Malfoy said pertly. "Don't you have something to say about my idea, Goyle?"  
  
"Marble cake," Goyle sighed.  
  
"What?" Malfoy demanded.  
  
"Idea, bloody good!" Goyle blurted.  
  
"What were you thinking about?" Malfoy asked.  
  
"Sweets," Goyle mumbled.  
  
"Of course you were," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "All you think about is food."  
  
Goyle pulled his covers over his head.  
  
"Well, we'll carry out my plan tomorrow afternoon," Malfoy told them.  
  
Malfoy put out the light. Finally, Goyle could go to sleep and stop thinking about food.  
That night, Goyle had a dream that he was seated at a table literally covered in desserts. Goyle was so happy that he just grabbed things and started eating them. With a face-full of cake, Goyle noticed that whenever there was an empty space from something he had eaten, other pastries would rush into its place. Then he saw that all the cakes and pies were crying. He asked them why they were crying, but instead of answering his question, the sweets just started begging to be eaten. Goyle tried to ask them why they wanted to be eaten. They wouldn't answer, but just came closer, throwing themselves in his mouth. Goyle waved his arms frantically to keep the pastries away. He finally had to run from the dessert table to get away from the suicidal sweets.  
A/N: Crazy dream, huh? Get the symbolism? A necrotar is a half-dead bull-wolf thing from Quest for Glory IV, just in case you were wondering. 


	3. Jaming Signals

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter three: JAMing signals  
  
Goyle was the first one awake the next morning. He didn't bother waking Malfoy before getting ready to leave. He didn't want to wait. After putting on his robes, Goyle jogged his way up to the Great Hall. Despite his dream, he had this burning hunger in the pit of his stomach. He had to eat something, anything. He would have eaten liver if he had it.  
  
The Great Hall was rather empty, as Goyle had expected, but there was still food on the tables. Goyle ran over to Slytherin table and sat down. He proceeded to pile his plate with toast, sausage, hot cakes, bacon, ham, oatmeal, scrambled eggs, potatoes au gratin, and hot links. Then he poured maple syrup over the top of everything and started chowing down.  
  
"Goyle," came a little whisper behind him.  
  
He wiped his chin on his sleeve and turned to the voice. Ginny Weasley stood before him, looking smaller than ever. Goyle swallowed and just stared at her, unsure what she wanted or what to say.  
  
"Goyle," she said again, "I'd like to apologize for yesterday. On the train, you saved my life. In return, I yelled at you and hit you. I'd just like to say that I am dreadfully sorry."  
  
"No harm done," Goyle muttered nervously.  
  
Ginny continued to stand there as if she had more to say. Goyle looked at the fierce sorrow in her small brown eyes and somehow understood why she had been so mean to him. The night before, Ginny sought for an end to her torment and he had stopped her. Now, she had to live on, this eternal sadness tearing at her soul. If only Goyle knew why she felt this way. Maybe he could help. Help? He was doing it again. He didn't help anyone except Malfoy and himself. What was this power Ginny had to make him not himself?  
  
"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Ginny queried.  
  
"Sure," Goyle allowed.  
  
"You're one of Malfoy's men," Ginny stated. "You guys hate us Weasleys. Why didn't you let me jump?"  
  
"Don't know," Goyle said honestly.  
  
"Whatever the reason, thank you for saving me," Ginny said quietly as she walked away.  
  
Goyle looked back at his food. There was bits of everything, dripping in syrup. The sight reminded him of vomit. He decided that he was no longer all that hungry. Pushing the plate away, Goyle got up and slumped out of the Great Hall. As he headed toward the dungeon, Malfoy and Crabbe passed him.   
  
"Goyle, where're you going?" Malfoy asked.  
  
"To bed," Goyle said over his shoulder. "Don't feel too good."  
  
*************  
  
Goyle caught up with Crabbe and Malfoy in their first class of the day, Transfiguration with Gryffindor. The three sat together, as they always did. Professor McGonagal stood in the front of the room with a stern look on her face. Goyle suddenly got creative inspiration. Quickly, he pulled out a piece of parchment and began to scribble a comical picture of McGonagal. He laughed as he drew her nose extra pointy and made her have sharp teeth and a forked tongue.  
  
Goyle looked up from his crude drawing and noticed something quite surprising. Ginny Weasley, who was sitting a few seats ahead, was looking back at him. She turned toward the teacher immediately. Thinking about it gave Goyle a headache. Why would she look at him? He wasn't the nicest-looking thing, with his long, thick arms and hair that came down his forehead.  
  
Goyle went back to his drawing, but he couldn't concentrate on it. He kept thinking about Ginny. Looking up, he saw that she was not looking back at him. She didn't look at him again during the entire class. Goyle knew because he was watching her all hour.  
  
Goyle thought about her the whole morning long. He couldn't figure out why she was looking at him. The most logical reason was that she was looking at the clock or something in his general direction. That would explain why she never again looked at him.  
  
"Pass me the jam," Malfoy requested, uncharacteristically pleasant, at lunch.  
  
Goyle took the boysenberry jam and handed it to Malfoy. Casually, Malfoy hid the jam under the table. Goyle wondered what he was doing. A few minutes later, Malfoy replaced the jam jar, but it was now empty. Goyle couldn't say for sure, but he thought that jar had jam in it when he gave it to Malfoy.  
  
"I wanted peach jam," Malfoy said, holding back a snigger.  
  
Another Slytherin passed the peach jam. Malfoy took it under the table and put it back empty. This proceeded until there was no more jam on the Slytherin table.  
  
"Does like jam, don't he?" Crabbe whispered to Goyle.  
  
Goyle shrugged.  
  
When they left lunch, Malfoy looked a little heavier than usual. Goyle supposed that it was all that jam Malfoy had eaten.  
  
To Goyle's surprise, as they left the Great Hall, Malfoy began to drag his newly-found fat up the main staircase. Crabbe and Goyle followed silently, wondering what need they would have for going upstairs.  
  
Malfoy stopped at the top of a turn and looked over the banister. It was a great view of the Entrance Hall. Malfoy suddenly dropped a large sack from under his robes, which, subsequently, made Malfoy his usual physique again.  
  
"What's that?" Crabbe asked.  
  
Malfoy glared at him and Goyle.  
  
"Do you two listen to a thing I say?" Malfoy demanded. "Weren't you listening when I told you of my plan?"  
  
A light came on in Goyle's head.  
  
"The jam balloons!" he blurted.  
  
"Of course," Malfoy said, frustrated. "Now, we wait for Potter."  
  
"Is that what you were doing under the table?" Crabbe asked stupidly.  
  
"Goyle, please," Malfoy groaned.  
  
Goyle grabbed the back of Crabbe's robes and kicked him in the rear. Crabbe yelped.  
  
The three waited at the curve in the stairs for a while. It seemed like Potter was never going to come up the stairs. Suddenly, Crabbe started jumping up and down excitedly and pointing.  
  
"Open your mouth, you git!" Malfoy shouted. "What is it?"  
  
"P-Potter!" Crabbe sputtered.  
  
"Get a balloon!" Malfoy ordered, reaching into the bag.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle reached into the bag as well. They lined up at the banister and waited for Potter, Weasley, and Granger to be at the right place.   
  
"Bombs away!" Malfoy laughed.  
  
All three dropped their balloons. Potter was hit with grape. Weasley pushed Granger out of the way, so he was hit with strawberry and peach. Goyle grabbed for another balloon.  
  
"Fire at will!" Malfoy commanded, reaching into the bag.  
  
Goyle looked over the side and went to drop his balloon, and then someone else came into sights. It was Ginny Weasley. She looked up right into Goyle's eyes. He was stunned. He could not drop the balloon. Malfoy and Crabbe, on the other hand, kept throwing as many as they could. Ron Weasley grabbed Granger's hand and pulled her back into the Great Hall. Potter made up the stairs. Ginny just dodged Crabbe's balloons. Malfoy was now aiming at Potter. Goyle took Crabbe's next balloon from him.  
  
"Hey, Greg!" Crabbe whined. "Get your own balloon!"  
  
Potter bolted up the stairs and tackled Malfoy. Crabbe pulled Malfoy off and pushed him to the ground. Potter got back up. While the three kept wrestling, Goyle was somehow confused. Normally, he would have gotten in and helped Crabbe and Malfoy beat the crud out of Potter, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure why. It's like he wasn't thinking straight. Goyle looked over the banister. Ginny still stood there. She looked awfully worried.  
  
"Harry!" she cried.  
  
Ron Weasley came running up the stairs to join in the rumble. Granger pulled Ginny away from the stairs. Goyle returned his attention to the fight. Crabbe was holding Weasley against the wall, while Potter had Malfoy pinned to the ground.  
  
"Goyle, get 'em!" Malfoy ordered.  
  
Goyle lunged forward and pushed Potter off Malfoy, which caused him to fall down the stairs. Malfoy jumped up and watched, laughing, as Potter tumbled into the Entrance Hall. Weasley shoved Crabbe away from him and ran down after Potter to see if he was all right. Malfoy continued to laugh and Crabbe joined in. Goyle just stood there, confused.  
  
A/N: I guess it's not logical to have Goyle and Ginny in the same class since they are different years, but it makes things so much easier. 


	4. The Charming Annyoing Teacher

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Gavon Fealty.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter four: The Charming Annoying Teacher  
  
To end afternoon classes, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had Defense Against Dark Arts with Hufflepuff. Another year, another teacher. Goyle wondered who it would be. Another Professor Trepid would kill him. As the time for class to begin approached, Goyle wondered if they had not been able to find a teacher. Then that hour would be free time. He could always use time to eat.   
  
Suddenly, a tall man with dark brown hair swept into the room. He went immediately to his desk chair and propped his feet up. The whole class just stared at him, unsure what to think. Goyle thought he looked much too young and pleasant to be a teacher.  
  
"Good morning, all," the professor said, smiling. "I am Professor Gavon Fealty. I'd let you call me Gavon, but if the other teachers heard, they would complain about it being disrespectful or some such nonsense.  
  
"Now, there's one thing to know about my class. I want everyone to be at ease. There will be very little reports assigned and no tests until the exams."  
  
The students applauded.  
  
"Settle down," Fealty said wryly. "Now, my class will not be all fun and games. I do expect you to work when I tell you to, but there won't be any boring lectures either. Are there any questions?"  
  
Goyle was somehow intrigued by this teacher. He seemed so cool and confident, but no one considered him arrogant. Goyle wondered how this could be accomplished, yet Malfoy failed so badly at it.   
  
"Alright," Fealty began, rolling up his sleeves to reveal strong, toned arms. "We'll start the class with me getting to know what each of you are capable of. I will hand out a sort of information sheet, which will tell me about you."  
  
Fealty got up and reached into a drawer. He pulled out a tall stack of papers and started handing them out. When Goyle got his, he skimmed over the questions. One question was "What is your favorite spell?" Another asked, "List three things you like about yourself?" Goyle had to think hard on that question. He could say things he liked: cakes, meat, and candies. But he never had thought of anything he liked about himself. He could list his characteristics: strong, dumb, and mean. But he didn't really like those things about himself.   
  
Fealty wandered around the room, occasionally glancing at people's sheets. He stopped at Goyle's desk and then knelt beside him.  
  
"May I ask why you're only on question five?" Fealty asked in a whisper.  
  
"Stuck," Goyle answered simply.  
  
"You don't like anything about yourself?" Fealty assumed.  
  
Goyle shrugged.  
  
Fealty nodded and smiled.  
  
"Alright," Fealty said wryly, "let's just pick something. Your seem like a sturdy boy. Do you like having strength?"  
  
Goyle shrugged.  
  
"Look, I can't help you if you're going to be indifferent," Fealty told him.  
  
"What's indifferent?" Goyle asked.  
  
"It's like you don't care about anything," Fealty explained.  
  
"I just don't like nothing 'bout me," Goyle muttered.  
  
"Why don't you stay after class?" Fealty suggested. "I want to talk more about this. For now, just skip the question."  
  
Fealty got up and went to the front of the room.   
  
After class, Malfoy and Crabbe started off. Goyle just stayed sitting. Malfoy looked back at him.  
  
"You coming?" Malfoy asked.  
  
"Havta stay after," Goyle told him.  
  
"Got in trouble already?" Malfoy said, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, you know where to find us."  
  
Malfoy and Crabbe left with the other students. Goyle glanced up at Professor Fealty. The professor was sitting at his desk, writing something. He put down his quill and looked up at Goyle.  
  
"Do you want to come up here?" Fealty asked.  
  
Goyle got up from his seat, grabbed his bag and went up to Fealty's desk.  
  
"What's your name?" Fealty asked, leaning forward on his elbows.  
  
"Gregory Goyle," Goyle told him.  
  
"Gregory," Fealty began, "can you honestly not think of a thing you like about yourself?"  
  
Goyle shook his head.  
  
"Your friends, Draco and Vincent, didn't have problems," Fealty said, looking over the information sheets. "In fact, Draco listed a few more than three."  
  
Goyle smiled. That was so like Malfoy.  
  
"So, you don't like your strength?" Fealty asked, leaning back in his chair. "Why not?"  
  
"People don't like me 'cause of it," Goyle told him.  
  
"What makes you say that?"   
  
"People are scared," Goyle explained.  
  
"Are they scared because you're strong or because you use your strength against them?" Fealty queried.  
  
Goyle couldn't keep anything from this guy.  
  
"Malfoy tells me to," Goyle defended.  
  
"Do you always do what Malfoy tells you to?"   
  
Goyle nodded.  
  
"Why?" Fealty question.  
  
"You sure ask questions," Goyle commented.  
  
Fealty smiled wryly.   
  
"I'm trying to understand you," he explained. "If you don't want me asking anymore questions, that's fine."  
  
"Don't care," Goyle muttered.  
  
"How about your eyes?" Fealty continued. "I would simply love to have green eyes."  
  
"I've always wanted brown," Goyle said quietly. "Ginny's got brown."  
  
"Who's Ginny?" Fealty asked.  
  
"Nobody!" Goyle exclaimed defensively.  
  
"Alright," Fealty began wryly. "I guess we leave that subject alone."  
  
Goyle looked around nervously. He wasn't sure why he had snapped like that. What was there to be defensive about? It was just Ginny Weasley. What was she to him?  
  
"Gregory," Fealty went on, leaning back on his elbows, "if you don't like people being afraid of you, don't do things that frighten them."  
  
"But Malfoy-" Goyle began.  
  
"What will Malfoy do?" Fealty asked, curiously.  
  
Goyle didn't like this conversation. It was confusing him.   
  
"Malfoy's waiting," Goyle said quickly, running from the room. 


	5. Striking Suggestions

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter five: Striking Suggestions  
  
Goyle paced about the Slytherin common room. Malfoy was lounging around on a couch by the fire. Crabbe was cutting out paper dolls. Goyle couldn't get his mind off of Ginny. He hadn't been able to for days.   
  
"Say I liked a girl," Goyle began. "Not saying I do, but if I did-"  
  
"Goyle's got a girlfriend!" Crabbe chanted excitedly.  
  
"Shut it, dunderhead!" Goyle yelled, shaking his fist as Crabbe.  
  
Crabbe shut up quickly.  
  
"What was your question?" Malfoy asked, looking at his nails.  
  
"Well, how'm I s'posed to get her to see me?" Goyle queried.  
  
"How could she miss you?" Malfoy laughed.  
  
"I mean-" Goyle went to explain.  
  
"I know what you mean," Malfoy interrupted, smirking. "It's easy to get a girl's attention. Just buy her things."  
  
"Buy her what?" Goyle asked, scratching his back with his large hand.  
  
"Like flowers and jewelry," Malfoy mused. "Girls like that stuff."  
  
"How do I give it to her?" Goyle asked apprehensively.  
  
"You're scared of her?" Malfoy laughed. "You're scared of a girl!"  
  
Goyle felt his face going red.  
  
"I ain't scared of nothing!" Goyle shouted.  
  
"Alright," Malfoy began, turning on to his side, "if you're having trouble giving stuff to her than just do something to impress her."  
  
"Like what?" Goyle questioned.  
  
"You're hopeless," Malfoy sighed in frustration. "Just show off your best quality."  
  
"What's my best quality?" Goyle asked.  
  
Malfoy thought for a while.  
  
"Didn't know you had a best quality," Crabbe laughed.  
  
"That's it!" Goyle yelled, going after Crabbe.  
  
"No, Greg!" Crabbe squealed, running around the Slytherin common room on his dumpy legs.   
Goyle grabbed onto the back of Crabbe's robes and slammed him against the wall.  
  
"I've got it," Malfoy said suddenly. "Your best quality is your strength."  
  
Goyle let go of Crabbe, who was barely conscious, and walked over to Malfoy.  
  
"How do I show it off?" Goyle asked.  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" Malfoy scoffed. "Pick a fight with someone. Once you pulverize him, this girl will see how strong you are and she'll fall all over you."  
  
"Are you sure?" Goyle asked.  
  
"Are you questioning me?" Malfoy snapped, glaring at Goyle.  
  
Goyle quickly shook his head. Why would he doubt Malfoy? Had Malfoy ever steered him wrong before? Malfoy was always right. It was common knowledge. Goyle decided to pick a fight with someone Malfoy didn't like. Maybe he should antagonize Potter.  
  
*************  
  
The next day, Goyle waited for after Transfiguration. He had planned to attack Potter where Ginny could see. Since Ginny had Transfiguration with him, he thought it would be best to do it right after that. Goyle was too anxious to listen to McGonagal. He just kept staring at Ginny and smiling.  
  
As the bell rang for class to disperse, Goyle watched Ginny pack her things. She still looked so sad, like everything that was worth living for had been taken away. It upset Goyle to see her like that.  
  
"Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagal called as Ginny was leaving class.  
  
Ginny closed her eyes and walked back to McGonagal's desk. Goyle slowly packed his things, listening intently to the conversation.  
  
"You have not turned in your last four assignments," McGonagal informed. "But I will give you the weekend to work on them."  
  
Ginny nodded silently, not looking at McGonagal.  
  
"You don't want to get behind," McGonagal assured her. "I have written a list of assignments in case you forgot what they were."  
  
McGonagal gave Ginny the paper.  
  
"I know you're having some personal problems," McGonagal sympathized, "but you don't want it to get in the way of the rest of your life."  
  
Goyle wondered what personal problems McGonagal was talking about.  
  
"Please, consider doing these assignments," McGonagal pleaded. "I'd hate to see you fail the finals over this matter."  
  
Ginny gave McGonagal a half smile, then left the room. Goyle hurried after her. Ginny walked slowly down the hall, but Potter was nowhere in sight. He had to pick someone else to beat up. Goyle grabbed a guy who was just passing and punched him in the stomach. Goyle looked up to see that Ginny had disappeared into the crowd. She hadn't seen it.  
  
***********  
  
Goyle sat in the Slytherin common room with Malfoy and Crabbe. He was feeling deeply depressed.  
  
"Do you think I should get another manicure?" Malfoy asked, looking at his nails. "Is there a manicure place in Hogsmeade?"  
  
Goyle didn't answer and Crabbe stared at Malfoy dumbly.  
  
"Never mind," Malfoy muttered, rolling his eyes. "What's been up with you, Goyle? You haven't been yourself for some time. Is it still that girl?"  
  
"She didn't see it," Goyle mumbled, his cheek propped up on his hand.   
  
"Beat up another guy," Malfoy suggested, picking at his nails.  
  
"I don't think that kind of thing will make her want me," Goyle grumbled, dismally.  
  
"Nonsense," Malfoy told him. "Girls don't know what they want. You have to tell her what she wants. First, you beat up some idiot like Neville Longbottum, then you grab her. She'll say no, but what she really means is yes."  
  
Goyle watched Malfoy as he droned on and on. Somehow, Goyle didn't think that Malfoy would be able to help much. Malfoy had always seemed so right before, but now he really seemed wrong. Malfoy didn't know Ginny. Ginny was kind and gentle. She wasn't the type to be interested in violence. But how else would Ginny see Goyle for more than just one of Malfoy's men? Goyle needed to ask advice from someone more knowledged in matters of women. He needed an adult even. But who would work?   
  
A/N: This one's a short chapter. Note for any boys who might be reading this: Never listen to your stupid guy friend's suggestions. 


	6. Talk to Me, I'm Listening

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Gavon Fealty, Bertha Hallina, Rachel Meriweather, and Martha York.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter six: Talk to Me, I'm Listening  
  
After Defense Against Dark Arts that afternoon, Goyle told Malfoy and Crabbe that he got in trouble and had to stay after in class. They left without questioning. Goyle slowly approached Professor Fealty's desk. Fealty stood in the front of the room, looking at Goyle curiously. Goyle had not spoken to Fealty since Fealty confused him after that first day.   
  
"Professor, I was wond'ring if you'd give me advice," Goyle said timidly.  
  
"What about, Gregory?" Fealty asked, sitting on the edge of his desk.  
  
"See, I know this girl," Goyle explained nervously. "She's real special, you know? But she's sad a lot 'bout sumthin' and I don't know what to do to help."  
  
Fealty nodded.  
  
"This is just a guess," Fealty began, folding his strong arms, "but I think you should listen to her."  
  
"She don't like to talk much, specially now," Goyle told him, dejectedly. "She just sits and looks sad."  
  
"She's bottling it," Fealty insisted. "She feels all alone and has no one to talk to. Whatever is bothering her, will continue to bother her until she lets it out. The only way you can help her is to be with her and listen to whatever she has to say, even if it doesn't deal with her problem, it will give her comfort."  
  
"Be with her, listen to her," Goyle repeated so he could remember.  
  
"You have an hour until dinner," Fealty informed. "I suggest you find her."  
  
"Thank you, professor," Goyle muttered.  
  
"You're very welcome, Gregory," Fealty said pleasantly. "I like you, Gregory. You remind me of myself when I was young."  
  
"I do?" Goyle asked, surprised.  
  
Fealty nodded and then walked around his desk to his chair and leaned over a piece of parchment.   
  
As Goyle left the Defense Against Dark Arts room, he wondered why he reminded Professor Fealty of himself. From what Goyle knew of Fealty, they were nothing alike. Fealty was good-looking and liked while Goyle was quite the opposite. He shook it off and tried to think of where Ginny might be. If she wasn't in the Gryffindor tower, she was probably in the library. Goyle wasn't exactly sure where the library was, but he had a pretty good idea.  
  
Goyle was right about where the library was. He had seen many people go in and out of it, and it had a sign that said 'LIBRARY' above it. Goyle entered and was amazed at the great quantity of books he saw. There were tens of roof-high shelves, all full of books of ranging subjects and sizes. He wasn't there to stare at books, though. He needed to search for Ginny.  
  
There was a group of tables nearby that were full of people who were studying. Goyle scanned the tables, but did not see a trace of red hair among them. Assuming that she was there and not in Gryffindor tower, she had to be among the many shelves of books.  
  
Goyle walked through the line of shelves, glancing down every aisle. He was beginning to think it would be time for dinner before he found her. Just then, he spotted someone with red hair down one aisle. It had to be Ginny. She was crouched down in the corner, reading a book which sat in her lap. Goyle approached her slowly.  
  
"What you readin'?" Goyle asked.  
  
Ginny jumped from the start and stared up at him.  
  
"Um," Ginny whispered, "it's a novel called Betrayal."  
  
"What's it about?" Goyle asked, sitting down on the floor.  
  
"Well," Ginny began, watching Goyle suspiciously, "it's about this girl who thought a guy really cared about her, but it turns out he didn't. It's really sad."  
  
"Sounds like it," Goyle responded.  
  
Ginny looked around apprehensively.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked.  
  
"I saw you and figured I'd say hi," Goyle explained.  
  
Ginny blinked at him, then looked back at her book. Goyle wondered what else he could say to get her talking. Nothing really came to mind. He wondered if just being there would be comfort.  
  
"Does this have anything to do with what happened on the train?" Ginny asked, not looking up from her book.  
  
"Sort of," Goyle said simply.  
  
Ginny put a book mark in her books and set it aside. She turned her deep brown eyes to Goyle.  
  
"Go ahead and ask me," Ginny allowed.  
  
"Ask you what?" Goyle queried.  
  
"What you came to ask," Ginny clarified.   
  
"I don't wanna ask you nothing," Goyle assured her. "I figured you might wanna talk 'bout sumthin'."  
  
Ginny looked at him uncertainly.   
  
"Whatever," Ginny shot at him. "Alright, you want to know why I wanted to jump from the train. Easy to explain. I found out something that I shouldn't have been so officious as to find out about someone who I never should have cared for. Does that satisfy your curiosity or do you want specifics?"  
  
"Don't havta get worked up 'bout it," Goyle told her. "I didn't mean to be nosey."  
  
Ginny grabbed her book, stood up and walked down he aisle. Goyle wasn't sure what he had done. He was just trying to listen to her like Fealty told him to. What'd he do wrong?   
  
*************  
  
At dinner, Goyle again had problems eating. He just didn't seem to want to eat like he use to. Malfoy and Crabbe stared at him oddly.   
  
"This girl is affecting you too much," Malfoy complained. "I think you're too serious about her. Rule number one in dating is not getting serious. That leads to way too much trouble. The girl starts to say she loves you. You say you love her just to get her to stop bothering you about it. Next thing you know, she wants to get married and you want to die. So take my advice and don't get serious."  
  
Goyle gawked at Malfoy, then returned his attention to his leanly-filled plate.  
  
"You know, you should date more than one girl," Malfoy spouted. "It's never good to keep your eye on one girl. Spend too much time with one and they start to get serious. That leads to everything I just explained. Now, take Patsy Perkinson. You think I'm only dating her? Definitely not. There's Martha York and Rachel Meriweather. Of course, none of them know about each other. That's how you do things."  
  
Goyle nodded just to please Malfoy.  
  
"Now, who is this girl anyway?" Malfoy asked. "It's Millicent Bulstrode, isn't it?"  
  
Goyle had to hold back a snigger.  
  
"Don't go after my girl!" Crabbe shouted at Goyle.  
  
Goyle scratched his head.  
  
"Is it Bertha Hallina?" Malfoy guessed.  
  
Goyle looked down the Slytherin table. A big smile spread across Bertha's round face as she looked over at him. Only half of her teeth were actually there. Her hair was up in uneven pigtails and her eyes popped out like a bug's. Goyle quickly shook his head at Malfoy.  
  
"How about-" Malfoy began.  
  
Goyle tuned Malfoy out. He was sick of listening to his absurd guesses. Millicent Bulstrode and Bertha Hallina? Were they all Malfoy thought Goyle could get? Goyle thought a second. They probably were all Goyle could get. After all, Ginny hardly even looked at him twice when he was trying to talk to her.   
  
Goyle glanced over at Gryffindor table. Ginny was reading a book while everyone around her was talking. It seemed like she purposefully excluded herself. Why would she do that? "I found out something that I shouldn't have been so officious as to find out about someone who I never should have cared for," was what she had said. But what did she mean by it? Goyle didn't even know what officious was. 


	7. Confused as an OxyMoron

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Fealty.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter seven: Confused as an Oxy-Moron  
  
In early November, Malfoy was training. He spent his time making Crabbe and Goyle throw things in the air for him to catch on his broomstick. Other than that, Malfoy started doing weird stretching. He would hang from a loose rafter in their room by one arm at a time. Goyle and Crabbe just stared at him.  
  
"What're you doin'?" Goyle finally asked.  
  
"Stretching, you moron!" Malfoy shot at him, dropping back down to earth.  
  
Malfoy saw Goyle's still confused expression and sighed in frustration.  
  
"The gravity pulling down on me will stretch out my arms and make them longer," Malfoy explained as he shook out his arms. "I'll be able to reach twice as far as Potter."  
  
Goyle wasn't sure, since he didn't have much experience with thinking, but Malfoy's exercises didn't seem very logical.  
  
"Why not have Greg pull your arm longer?" Crabbe suggested, proud that he thought of such a thing.  
  
"That's stupid," Malfoy mocked. "He'd yank it right from its socket."  
  
Crabbe lowered his head.  
  
"I've got the best idea for the next trick we can play," Malfoy said suddenly, his face lighting up. "It'll be much better than that jam thing. This time we'll really get Potter."  
  
Malfoy rubbed his hands together as if he was dreaming of a gourmet meal. Goyle spaced off, staring out the window. His mind was on Ginny. How could he help her if she refused to talk to him? Listen and be there, Fealty had said. Well, that was easy for him to say. Goyle couldn't be there for and listen to a girl who seemed to hate his guts. It was truly upsetting.  
  
"What we do is," Malfoy went on as if someone was actually interested in what he had to say, "we lure them out of the common room at night and get them in trouble."  
  
"Thought we did it first year," Crabbe said.  
  
"Shut it!" Malfoy snapped. "We tell them we want to talk in the Charms room. Yeah, that's it. Then, we don't show."  
  
Malfoy laughed maniacally. Crabbe laughed with him.  
  
"No, that's stupid," Malfoy scoffed suddenly. "I did that first year."  
  
Crabbe opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. Malfoy sat on his bed and stared at Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
"Let's have it," Malfoy said, expectantly.  
  
"Have what?" Crabbe asked.  
  
"The cheer," Malfoy grumbled.  
  
Goyle groaned. Crabbe jumped up excitedly. They both turned to their side and held one arm straight from their faces and lifted one leg behind them. They looked like bulky "S"s.   
  
"Slytherin, Slytherin!" Crabbe and Goyle chanted.  
  
They put thier legs down, both arms up and faced Malfoy.  
  
"To win, win!" Crabbe and Goyle finished.  
  
"You better do it in the stands during this game," Malfoy threatened. "And, Goyle, can you try to put more pep in it? Our victory depends on this chant."  
  
Malfoy stood up and started out of the room. Crabbe and Goyle followed.   
  
"I've go to get into my uniform," Malfoy said snootily. "You guys can watch practice until the game."  
  
"Sounds fun, Draco," Crabbe sputtered excitedly.  
  
"Not just everyone gets to watch the Slytherin team practice," Malfoy said, walking up to the common room.  
  
'Just everyone who happens to pass by the field,' Goyle thought, rolling his eyes.  
  
"This is going to be the best game since Quidditch was invented," Malfoy droned on.  
  
Goyle boredly followed Malfoy up to the Entrance Hall. Malfoy turned toward the large door. Goyle let his sight wander to the main staircase. There was little Ginny, walking up the stairs with a book held close to her chest. Goyle stopped instantly. He looked at Malfoy, who didn't even notice he wasn't still following, and then looked back at Ginny. Somehow, Malfoy didn't seem to be important anymore.   
  
Goyle ran up after Ginny. He didn't catch up to her, but stealthily followed her. Predictably enough, Ginny went into the library. Goyle was reluctant to go in. What if someone saw him in the library? It would ruin his reputation. Of course, he had gone in there once before.   
  
As Goyle entered and saw that the library was quite void of people, he remember that they were all at the Quidditch match. Ginny came out of an book aisle and sat at a table with a book. Goyle wondered why Ginny had such a thing for books. Goyle had never read a book in his life and was probably much the better because of it. Still, Ginny was reading a book, so Goyle decided to do the same. After all, why else would he happen to be in a library during a Quidditch match?  
  
Goyle grabbed the first book he saw and walked over to a table and pretended to read. Ginny looked up from her book suspiciously.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked, being a table away from his.  
  
"Reading," Goyle replied, holding up the book.  
  
"You are reading that?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"'Course," Goyle said confidently. "I love this book."  
  
Ginny covered her mouth to keep from laughing. Goyle looked at the title of his book, Learning to Love Lobalugs, and grinned nervously.  
  
"Do you know how to love a Lobalug yet?" Ginny laughed.  
  
"I meant to get another book," Goyle grumbled, feeling himself blush.  
  
Ginny stopped laughing and returned to her own book.  
  
"What're you readin'?" Goyle queried, trying to read the title from a distance.  
  
"'Anne of Green Gables'," Ginny told him, not looking up.  
  
"Really?" Goyle said, nodding. "Good one."  
  
Ginny looked at him in disbelief.  
  
"You've read it?" Ginny asked.  
  
"Well," Goyle began, "'course."  
  
"Is that so?" Ginny said, putting down her book. "What's your favorite part?"  
  
Goyle racked his brain.  
  
"Anne being of green gables?" Goyle mumbled.  
  
"Didn't think so," Ginny muttered.  
  
"What's it about, then?" Goyle asked, moving over to Ginny's table.  
  
"A red-headed girl who thinks no one wants her," Ginny explained. "She thinks she's ugly and imagines a life much more glamorous. Then, she finds out that she can be loved for who she is."  
  
"Told ya it's a good one," Goyle said.  
  
Ginny held back a snigger. She looked back up at him.  
  
"What are you doing here?"   
  
Goyle shrugged.  
  
"Right!" Ginny snapped angerly, getting up and leaving the library.  
  
"What'd I say?" Goyle groaned.  
  
**********  
  
Malfoy, accompanied by the other Slytherins, came into the common room. He walked straight up to where Goyle sat and glared at him. Crabbe stood behind him.  
  
"Why weren't you there?" Malfoy demanded.  
  
"I was just-" Goyle began.  
  
"The cheer looked stupid with just Crabbe!" Malfoy shouted, angerly.  
  
"Would've looked stupid no matter what," Goyle said under his breath.  
  
"We lost the match because of you!" Malfoy yelled. "I can't believe you let down your entire house. You're such a stupid git!"  
  
Malfoy plopped down on the couch and covered his face with his hand. Crabbe shook his head.   
  
"Go get me something from the kitchen, will you, Crabbe?" Malfoy mumbled.  
  
Crabbe scurried off out of the common room. Goyle felt as if he was being abandoned. Crabbe was leaving him. What was Malfoy going to do to him? Would he enchant Goyle with an awful stench or charm his hair so it would grow so long he would trip on it? Goyle couldn't stand the fact that Malfoy was just sitting there. He had to have something horrible planned.  
  
"Sorry you lost," Goyle muttered just to break the silence and, hopefully, to soften Malfoy.  
  
"It's not your fault that you were born stupid," Malfoy said, tipping his head back.  
  
Goyle stood up and walked over to the fire. That was it. That was his punishment. It hadn't been a strench charm or even blistering boils. But it was bad. It was worse than anything Malfoy had ever done to him. Nothing else could have affected Goyle like this. Nothing else could have made Goyle think. Was he born stupid? Was that why things didn't make sense to him? Was that why Ginny wouldn't talk to him? Was that why he followed Malfoy like a mindless drone? Was this how he was born to be or could he ever be more?  
A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short. Please review. 


	8. Secret feelings Expressed

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Fealty.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter eight: Secret Feelings Expressed  
  
Goyle lay on his bed and stared at a blank piece of parchment that sat on his pillow, trying to write an essay. Usually, he didn't do his homework, but he was too distracted all day to remember to threaten Neville to do it for him. So, Goyle was stuck doing it himself. He never was good at essays, reading, or any such thing.  
  
Dipping his quill into his ink bottle for the tenth time, Goyle pondered on the Great Dragon Migration. He imagined them flying around, spouting red flames. Red flames, red like Ginny's shinning hair. Goyle rolled over on to his back and sighed. Ginny, Ginny, beautiful Ginny. Her eyes were the color of chocolate frogs.   
  
Goyle turned back to his parchment and found himself writing. He couldn't stop, like he was under some sort of enchantment. Wonderful words appeared on the parchment. When Goyle was done, he looked over the words he had written.  
  
"How could someone so wonderful-  
Find reason to frown?  
Though sadness becomes-  
Eyes so very brown,   
I live to make you smile.  
  
You look like an angel,  
Hair redder than red.  
It's hard for me to understand-  
why you'd wish to be dead.  
I live to make you smile.  
  
You don't seem to like it much-  
When I try to talk to you.  
You just leave me short-  
No matter what I say or do.  
I live to make you smile.  
  
You walk around school-  
Hair tucked behind your ear,  
Not knowing how much of a change-  
You brought to me this year.  
I live to make you smile.  
  
Dearest Ginny,  
You mean so much to me.  
You couldn't know how much-  
I wish you could see-  
I live to make you smile."  
  
Goyle had never written such a thing in his life. Of course, he had never tried before that moment. He had also never felt about anyone the way he felt about Ginny.  
  
*************  
  
Fealty looked up from the poem, his face full of surprise. Goyle just twisted his fingers nervously, waiting for Fealty's opinion.  
  
"Who wrote this?" Fealty asked suspiciously.  
  
"Me, sir," Goyle replied, biting his lip.  
  
Fealty looked down at the poem again.  
  
"It's brilliant," Fealty commented. "I have honestly never knew you had this in you."  
  
"I never writ nothing like it," Goyle told him.  
  
"So, Ginny Weasley is the girl," Fealty said wryly, "the one you've been asking advice about?"  
  
Goyle nodded, hands now behind his back.  
  
"You should give it to her," Fealty insisted, handing the poem back to Goyle.  
  
"No!" Goyle blurted, feeling frantic. "I couldn't. She'd laugh. She'd think I were dumb."  
  
"I don't think she will," Fealty stated, sitting on the edge of his desk. "Ginny is going through a rough time and doesn't want to trust anyone. To get someone to open up, you must open up yourself."  
  
"What if she does laugh?" Goyle asked nervously.  
  
Fealty walked up to Goyle and put his hand on Goyle's shoulder.  
  
"Risk is part of any relationship," Fealty said.  
  
Goyle wasn't sure. He wouldn't be able to take her rejecting him after he had poured his soul out to her. He wasn't ready to show her.  
  
*************  
  
Goyle read over the poem many times during Transfiguration. Ginny sat just two seats in front of him. He could pass the letter, then she wouldn't know it was from him. Slipping it in her bag when she wasn't looking was another idea. Fealty was right, though. She wouldn't open up to him if she didn't know it was him who had opened up to her.  
  
"Class dismissed," McGonagal announced.  
  
The students got up and started filing out. Goyle walked up to Ginny and just stood there as she packed her book bag. She looked up at him, waiting for him to state what he wanted. Goyle slowly held out the folded poem.   
  
Ginny blinked at him suspiciously. Goyle's hand was shaking as Ginny took the poem from it. She unfolded the parchment gently. Goyle watched intently as Ginny's eyes moved over the poem. Her eyebrows raised a few times and Goyle thought he saw a blush. Folding the parchment, Ginny held back a smile.   
  
"You wrote this?" she asked.  
  
As she looked up at him, Goyle immediately dropped his eyes to the floor and nodded in response to her question.  
  
"I've never read anything so...so beautiful," Ginny told him. "I didn't know you could write."  
  
Goyle shrugged, still afraid to look at her.  
  
"I'm going to the library in a minute," Ginny said, placing the poem among her books in her book bag. "Do you want to come?"  
  
"Sure," Goyle blurted, looking at her.  
  
Ginny smiled. It was a beautiful smile that lit up her entire face.   
  
"Have you ever read Sense and Sensibility?" Ginny asked, looking over at him as they headed toward the library.  
  
"I don't think so," Goyle said, trying his best not to sound dumb or uncultured.  
  
"You should," Ginny suggested, glancing at her feet. "You remind me of Colonel Brandon in that book."  
  
Goyle actually considered reading the book if only to find out who this Colonel Brandon was. He was most likely a stupid lug who constantly made a mess of things. If that was so, why was Ginny blushing so much?  
  
"I forgot," Ginny said suddenly. "I was supposed to be in my next hour early."  
  
"I'll walk you," Goyle offered quickly.  
  
Ginny nodded, smiling.  
  
By the turns she was making as they walked, Goyle guessed that Ginny's next class was Charms.  
  
"Have you read A Walk to Remember?" Ginny queried.  
  
"You sure read a lot," Goyle commented. "Don't you do nothing else?"  
  
"Like what?" Ginny asked as if she didn't know any other pastime existed.  
  
"Like sports or collecting things," Goyle listed his hobbies.  
  
"I'm not all that gifted in sports," Ginny admitted, lowering her head in shame. "I've never been interested in any certain thing enough to collect them. What do you collect?"  
  
Goyle pressed his finger to his chin, saying, "Rocks, bottle caps, famous wizard cards, muggle coins, beetles, and teeth."  
  
Ginny blinked at Goyle, seeming amazed, for some reason.  
  
"Ever read Freckles?" Ginny blurted.  
  
Goyle, again, had to shake his head.  
  
"That's a good one," Ginny told him quickly. "It's about a boy named Freckles and how he lives as a one-handed Irishman in America."  
  
"I really don't read all that much," Goyle finally admitted.  
  
"You should," Ginny insisted. "Maybe I should make up a list of books you could..."  
  
Ginny stopped suddenly, staring off down the corridor. Her's was a look of terror. Goyle looked down the corridor to see what it was she was so alarmed by. Down the corridor a way, stood Harry Potter. He was leaning near a black-haired girl who was the Ravenclaw seeker. She giggled and flirtingly hit Potter's shoulder. Potter touched her neck and kissed her gently on the lips. Goyle still stared a moment before he realized that Ginny was gone. He glanced around, trying to see the slightest glint of red, but she was no where in sight.  
  
***********  
  
"Then she ran off," Goyle explained to Professor Fealty in his class room about an hour later. "Don't even know where she went to."  
  
Professor Fealty thought for a second, then replied, "I'm not expert in women, but I believe that Harry or this seeker has something to do with why Ginny is having a hard time."  
  
"Second year, Ginny sent a valentine to Potter," Goyle blurted as the memory came to him.  
  
"Maybe she loves him," Professor Fealty said, sitting on the edge of his desk.  
  
"Loves him?" Goyle repeated quietly.  
  
The prospect wasn't pleasant to think about. It gave Goyle a stomach ache.  
  
"I am supposing that her pain has to do with getting over this Potter," Fealty went on. "It would help her a great deal to make her forget him."  
  
Goyle didn't understand. If she loved Potter, how could she just forget him? In addition, Goyle wouldn't know how to go about making her forget him. First, he thought of an amnesia charm.  
  
Fealty seemed to read his mind because he said, "Gregory, just show her that other men are out there. Show her people care for her. Basically, be with her."  
  
"You think she'll go for me?" Goyle asked, thinking the idea was absurd. "But she's so...and I'm, well..Sir, she deserves better."  
  
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Fealty said, putting his hand on Goyle's shoulder. "Besides, the idea is helping her. Just try for her."  
  
Goyle nodded, sure he would do anything for Ginny.  
  
"Now get," Fealty joked. "I have work to do."  
  
Goyle smiled and started toward the door.  
  
"Professor," Goyle began over his shoulder, "you read Sense and Sensibility?"  
  
"Yes, I have," Fealty said.  
  
"Who's Colonel Brandon?" Goyle asked, not turning around.  
  
"Brandon is a man of dignity and respect," Fealty explained.  
  
"He's not stupid or clumsy?" Goyle asked.  
  
"No, quite the opposite," Fealty insisted. "He's actually a sort of hero in the story. See, Brandon always fancied a certain woman, but she would have nothing to do with him. Her heart is stolen and broken by a man who's no good. Brandon is there for her and actually saves her life."  
  
Goyle stared around at Fealty. Maybe the thing about saving the girl's life is what reminded Ginny of Brandon. It seemed, other than that, Goyle wasn't all that like Brandon. Sure, Goyle liked Ginny, and Ginny was having problems due to Potter. That didn't qualify Goyle to be her hero.  
  
"How's it end?" Goyle asked. "After the life saving thing, then what?"  
  
"I do believe she figures out how much she loves him, and it's a happy ending," Fealty told him.  
  
Goyle nodded and exited the room. 


	9. One Daunting Evening

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Fealty.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter nine: One Daunting Evening  
  
When snow falls, it means one thing. Christmas is coming, and it's coming soon. All houses were overly excited about the idea of Christmas presents, Christmas holiday, and, most of all, the Yule Ball. The time was coming for people to snatch up their dates quickly. It was well known that Potter had already asked Cho Chang to the dance. Therefore, Ginny was in bad spirits.  
  
Goyle approached her slowly in the library. She was leaning over a book, looking more forlorn than he had ever seen her.   
  
"Readin' a good one?" Goyle asked.  
  
Ginny didn't even jump from start.  
  
"It's called Twelfth Night by Shakespeare," Ginny choked out. "It's about a girl named Viola who dose everything to impress Orsino. All the time, he likes this other girl, Olivia. Viola even tries to get Olivia to like Orsino so he'll be happy. Still, he doesn't see her."  
  
This made Goyle feel depressed himself. He didn't know what to do for poor Ginny. He tried to remember what Fealty had said: "Show her other guys are out there." Goyle had an idea. The prospect made the room temperature increase.  
  
"Ginny," Goyle began, his mouth as dry as Ashwinder's trail, "d'you wanna...go to the...Yule Ball?"  
  
Ginny glanced up at him, surprised. Every second she continued to stare at him felt like forever. She finally looked away, but didn't answer. Goyle accepted that as a rejection. He lowered his head and began to turn to leave.  
  
"I'm not a good dancer," Ginny blurted.  
  
"Me neither," Goyle said, looking back at her.  
  
Ginny smiled and said, "Ok, I'll go."  
  
Goyle felt like flying.  
  
************  
  
Goyle sat in Slytherin common, about an hour before the dance, and concentrated hard on reading a book entitled "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty." It was a very small book, suggested by Fealty for a starting book. It was quite amusing. It dealt with a young man's fantasies, wishing his life was more exciting.   
  
"Goyle!" Malfoy shouted viciously, standing over him. "What's up with you?"  
  
Crabbe stood next to him, glaring at Malfoy.  
  
"What d'you mean?" Goyle asked.  
  
"You don't never hang with us no more," Crabbe pointed out.   
  
"You stay after classes. You do homework," Malfoy listed, utterly disgusted. "You've been seen in the library. Now, you're reading books?"  
  
Goyle looked at the book and placed it behind his back.  
  
"Out with it, Greg!" Crabbe threatened.  
  
"D'you think you're too good for us?" Malfoy demanded, a sour expression on his face.  
  
"Nothin' like that," Goyle assured them. "It's just..well..there's something happenin'-"  
  
"Does this have to do with that girl?" Malfoy asked.  
  
"Girl? What girl?" Goyle said nervously.  
  
"The one you've been obsessing over," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes.  
  
Goyle was stuck. What was he to do? If he told Malfoy about Ginny, he would surely be shunned by Malfoy and the rest of Slytherin house. But, how could he deny the girl he loved. He shouldn't be ashamed of her.   
  
"I've got a friend," Goyle began tensely. "I've been with her."  
  
"Greg's got a girlfriend!" Crabbe sang loudly.  
  
Goyle just smiled and shrugged.  
  
"My Goyle," Malfoy said, putting his hand on Goyle's shoulder proudly, "has a girlfriend. Guess my advice paid off, didn't it?"  
  
"She hott?" Crabbe asked excitedly.  
  
Goyle nodded, still smiling nervously.  
  
Malfoy slapped Goyle's back, saying, "Atta boy!"  
  
Goyle just continued to smile.  
  
"Taking her to the dance?" Malfoy assumed.  
  
Goyle nodded.  
  
"Midnight walk about the grounds might be a good idea," Malfoy chuckled, winking at Goyle.  
  
Goyle still smiled.  
  
"Just don't go near Greenhouse A," Malfoy warned. "If the greenhouse in rocking, don't come a knocking."  
  
Malfoy and Crabbe laughed. Goyle smiled.  
  
"Time for the dance!" Goyle shouted, jumping up from the couch and running up to the Great Hall.  
  
Ginny and Goyle had arranged to meet by the main staircase in the Entrance Hall. Ginny came down the main staircase just on time. She wore plain grey dress robes and had her hair half clipped up. Goyle thought she looked absolutely wonderful. Ginny took Goyle's arm, and they headed into the dance.   
  
The lights were lowered, and soft music was playing. People stood around the edges of the room, talking. Very few graced the dance floor. Goyle kept looking behind them, watching the door for Malfoy.   
  
"What now?" Ginny whispered.  
  
"Punch, I guess," Goyle muttered, leading the way to the punch bowl.   
  
He got a cup and handed it to Ginny.   
  
"You having some?" Ginny asked.  
  
Goyle shook his head. His stomach didn't feel too well at the moment. Yet, he continued his watch for Malfoy. It would be just great if Malfoy had not planned on attending. What were the chances of that, though?  
  
"I know neither of us can dance, but should we try?" Ginny suggested.  
  
Sounded good. Malfoy probably wouldn't notice him if he was dancing.  
  
Goyle and Ginny took a dance position in the middle of the floor and began to sway to the music. Goyle kept Ginny at arms length at first. As the song went on, he slowly pulled her closer, until she was right up against him, her head laying on his chest. It was quite comfortable having her in his arms. He felt more relaxed now.  
  
To Goyle's luck, Malfoy never did come in that he noticed. He supposed that Malfoy had taken his date straight to the greenhouse. Awfully easy date. Of course, Malfoy had almost always been able to get what he wanted.   
  
Ginny and Goyle danced many dances together and had quite a fun time. The hours passed too quickly, and the dance was nearly over. Goyle wasn't allowed to walk Ginny up to her house since that would reveal its location, so they just stopped in an empty hall on the second floor. Ginny said she would go the rest of the way herself.  
  
"Ginny, why do I remind you of Colonel Brandon?" Goyle asked quietly.  
  
"Have you read the book?" Ginny retorted.  
  
"Say, I got a crash course," Goyle explained.  
  
"I don't know why you remind me of Colonel Brandon," Ginny said, looking as if she was searching her mind. "I suppose because he's determined, thoughtful and really sweet."  
  
"You think I'm those things?" Goyle assumed, surprised.  
  
"Well, yeah," Ginny said, blushing.  
  
How could she see such qualities in him? She seemed to see more than what was there. She couldn't know him very well if she thought that highly of him. Goyle meant to set her straight. Just as he was about to dispute those attributes, something in Ginny's deep brown eyes wiped Goyle's mind blank. Her eyes were so importune and so innocent.   
  
Goyle raised his hand to Ginny's cheek. As he gently touched her face, Ginny flinched. Feeling as though he had done something wrong, Goyle lowered his hand. The desire to hold her still burned within him, but he could never do so without her consent.  
  
Ginny slowly opened her eyes and glanced up at Goyle. She seemed surprised somehow. Goyle wasn't sure what to do now. Should he try again, leave or just change the subject.  
  
"Christmas is soon," Goyle blurted uncertainly.  
  
Ginny just stared at him, bemused.  
  
"I'm hoping to get a Sirocco 101 broomstick," Goyle muttered.  
  
Ginny looked Goyle over from top to bottom. Suddenly, she looked frightened, and then she bolted off in the opposite direction.   
  
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Goyle grumbled, hitting his fist against the side of his head. "Why would she want to be around such a dumb ox? She don't like you anymore than she likes Malfoy or Crabbe. What are you, after all? A big, stupid git!"  
  
Once Goyle was done ridiculing himself, he walked down the corridor, on his way to Slytherin common. 


	10. Take Time to Know Me

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Fealty.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter ten: Take the Time to Know Me  
  
Goyle followed Malfoy and Crabbe to the departing Hogwarts express. Malfoy talked endlessly of the great things he would get for Christmas. Crabbe put in every chance he got about his excitement for seeing his little brother again. Goyle couldn't think of a good thing that home had in store for him.  
  
"Dad promised to take me to see the Chudley Cannons New Years," Malfoy blathered on.  
  
Goyle felt somehow smothered in the little compartment. He felt some time out and about and away from Malfoy would do him some good.  
  
"I'm gonna get me a cauldron cake," Goyle announced, standing up.  
  
"You sure?" Malfoy asked. "Remember what happened the last time you did that? You came back wet and without a cake."  
  
Goyle continued out of the compartment. He did remember. That was when he saw Ginny about to throw herself from the train. It was that trip for a cauldron cake that had changed his entire life.  
  
As Goyle neared the dining car, he saw a red-headed person coming toward him. He could tell at once that it was not Ginny. Upon further inspection, Goyle realized it was Ron Weasley. He wasn't all that happy, either. In fact, he seemed awfully angry.  
  
"Look," Ron said, coming right up to Goyle, "I don't care how big you are or how strong. I've only got one sister and I won't let her be made a fool of. Do your worst to me, but let my sister alone!"  
  
Ron quickly put his arms over his face to protect against punches. Goyle just stared down at him.  
  
"Don't know what you're going on about," Goyle muttered, "but I don't mean no hard to little Ginny."  
  
Ron peeked over his arms. Once he saw Goyle had no ill intentions, he lowered his arms.  
  
"You can't mean that," Ron scoffed. "Malfoy and you guys hate us Weasleys. I don't know what game you're playing, but I won't have it."  
  
"No game," Goyle assured. "I just wanna be friends with her. Honest."  
  
Ron glared at Goyle skeptically.  
  
"We'll see about that," Ron said, walking passed Goyle and down the corridor.  
  
Goyle shook his head and returned to his compartment. Malfoy and Crabbe looked at him for a moment.  
  
"What happened to your cake this time, Greg?" Crabbe asked.   
  
Goyle just shrugged.  
  
************  
  
It was quite late when the train arrived at King's Cross, but not yet dark. The students poured out of the train. Goyle dragged his trunk on to the platform and glanced around.  
  
"See ya, Goyle," Malfoy said once he spotted his dad. "We're dragging Knockturn next weekend. Don't forget."  
  
Goyle nodded, though he didn't like going to Knockturn Alley. That place creeped him out and gave him nightmares, but Malfoy loved it there. What is a stupid git to do?  
  
Crabbe said goodbye and ran to meet his family.  
  
"Master Gregory," came a sterile pompous voice.  
  
Goyle turned to see his rather lank butler, Mr. Bond. He had a peculiar sort of hair that looked very fake to Goyle. Mr. Bond unrolled a red cloth and hoisted Goyle's trunk upon it. Bond and Goyle stood on the cloth, too. Suddenly, Goyle could hear a strange tinkle like a small bell was being rung. Then WHOOSH! Goyle felt as if he were traveling a million kilometers an hour, everything too blurry to make out. Suddenly, he was laying on the floor of the family room.  
  
"Master Gregory is home!" Bond shouted, grabbing Goyle's trunk and dragging it up some stairs.  
  
Goyle got to his feet just in time to see his robust mother enter the room. She wore glittery silver robes that came down rather low in the front. Her hair was curly, short, and blonde.  
  
"Dear Gregory," she began sourly, "you look as though you haven't eaten for days."  
  
Goyle looked down at himself. It was the first time he had noticed that he was missing some weight.  
  
"We'll fix that right up," Mrs. Goyle said. "I'll tell Penny to fix you something before dinner. It must have been a long trip after all."  
  
Mrs. Goyle left the room. Greg Goyle started up a marble staircase to his bedroom. He had to change out of his school robes and into something fancier for dinner. It was house regulations.  
  
Once Goyle was pressed and dressed, he came down and went into the dinning room. Mrs. Goyle was already seated. Mr. Goyle's chair was empty.  
  
Greg sat down and stared across the table at his mother.  
  
"Penny!" Mrs. Goyle called.  
  
A small house elf with a pare-shaped nose came out of the kitchen with a large tray of pudding. Penny the house elf brought the tray over to Goyle.   
  
"No, thank you," Greg Goyle muttered.  
  
"Really, Gregory," Mrs. Goyle gasped. "How can you keep your health if you don't eat?"  
  
"I'll wait, Mum," Greg told her, staring at a vace of roses in the middle of the table.  
  
They were red roses. Red like Ginny's silky hair. Greg Goyle sighed.  
  
"Goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. Goyle. "I do believe you're ill. Call Dr. Necromancy, Penny!"  
  
Penny rushed to the fireplace.  
  
"I'm fine, Mum," Greg insisted.  
  
"I didn't like the look in your eyes just then," Mrs. Goyle said worriedly.  
  
A loud bang signalled that Goyle's father, Mr. Goyle, was home. Mr. Goyle was a very large man with black hair and a droopy face. He set down his briefcase and sat himself in a chair that seemed to small to hold his great weight.  
  
"Have a nice year at school, Gregory?" Mr. Goyle asked, placing his napkin in his lap.  
  
"Yes, Sir," Greg replied, knowing his father couldn't care less about his time at Hogwarts.  
  
"Good, good," his father muttered, stabbing a steak and placing it on his plate.  
  
Mrs. Goyle heaped liver mousse on her plate. Greg reached for the applesauce and gave himself a small helping.  
  
"Eat more than that," Mrs. Goyle ordered. "You're just skin and bones, isn't he, Mr. Goyle."  
  
"Your mother is right," Mr. Goyle sided. "Put some meat on your bones. You're a growing boy after all."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Greg Goyle murmured, pushing his applesauce around his plate.  
  
*************  
  
Goyle had a dream that night that he shrunk to the size of a house elf. When the doctor checked him out, he announced that Goyle's condition was due to the fact that he hadn't eaten enough. Mrs. Goyle sat Greg in a baby chair and continuously fed him brownies and pudding. But it didn't help any. Greg Goyle just kept shrinking until he had become so small that no body could even find him. While on his way to work one day, Mr. Goyle stepped on him.  
  
A/N: I want to thank all those who have review. You have made writing this story a real pleasure. Thank you so much.  
  
A/N: Alright, I want to ask you guys something. I'v heard of Blaise Zabini in fanfiction, but I don't remember him/her from the books. Can someone explain to me who he or she is? 


	11. Holiday Highlights

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Fealty.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter eleven: Holdiay Highlights  
  
"I'm so sad, but I can't cry.  
I'm all alone, and I don't know why."  
  
Goyle put down his quill and stared out his window. It looked like a lovely morning, but Goyle just wanted to stay inside. His mother had rushed him off to every fair from there to Amsterdam. She was obsessed with fattening him up with cooking competitions. She couldn't just accept that Goyle didn't have as much a desire to eat as he had so many months ago.   
  
Goyle heard a knock on his door. He suspected it was Penny with another pail of ice cream.  
  
"Get back to the kitchen!" Goyle yelled. "Don't want no more to eat."  
  
"What are you talking about?" it was Malfoy's voice. "Your mum said you've been acting funny. I can't say I disagree."  
  
Malfoy didn't wait for Goyle to get up and open the door. He just busted right in. Goyle groaned at the Sirocco 101 in Malfoy's hand. That one broomstick meant that Malfoy was going to drag him off to Knockturn Alley.   
  
"C'mon, you lazy lug," Malfoy ordered, walking over to where Goyle lay on his bed. "Crabbe's waiting down stairs."  
  
Malfoy picked up the piece of paper Goyle had been scribbling on. Once reading it, Malfoy's eyebrow raised. He stared at Goyle, then began to laugh. Goyle sat up.  
  
"What's this rubbish?" Malfoy asked, still laughing. "I can't cry? Ha Ha!"  
  
Goyle cracked an insincere smile.  
  
"You've been cooped up too long," Malfoy diagnosed. "Get your broom and c'mon."  
  
Goyle stood up and walked over to his closet. He pulled out his old Firebolt 380 and followed Malfoy down to the family room. Goyle found Mrs. Goyle stuffing Crabbe full of sweets. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Malfoy, dear," Mrs. Goyle crooned. "You're merely skin and bones. Have a treacle tart."  
  
"No thanks, Mrs. Goyle," Malfoy said politely, "I had a rather large breakfast."  
  
"Have a nice time at Diagon Alley, Gregory," Mrs. Goyle said, pinching Greg's cheek.  
  
Malfoy, Greg Goyle, and Crabbe left the house and stepped out on to the street. The sun beamed down on them. Some little children across the street were playing exploding snap.   
  
"Don't seem quite Christmas, do it?" Crabbe asked.  
  
"Not here," Goyle replied, taking off his jacket.  
  
"Let's mount and be off to Knockturn," Malfoy said excitedly.  
  
"Knockturn, but Mum said Diagon," Goyle muttered.  
  
"I couldn't tell your mum the truth," Malfoy explained, mounting his broom. "I didn't know how she'd feel about the whole thing after all."  
  
Goyle and Crabbe got on their brooms too. With a mere kick, they were off zooming over the treetops. Malfoy knew the exact way to Knockturn Alley, so they got there pretty quickly, landing in the middle of the street. Goyle glanced up at the disturbing names of the shops and looked at Malfoy.   
  
"Man, I missed this place," Malfoy sighed, leaning against his broom. "What should we do first? Go in for a Forbidden Curse demonstration or buy some severed fingers?"  
  
"Fingers!" shouted Crabbe excitedly.  
  
"Forgot that Mum wanted me to get somethin' fer her," Goyle said nervously. "I'll meet you guys later."  
  
"All right, but you'll miss all the fun," Malfoy called after him as Goyle made his way up to Diagon Alley.  
  
Being back in the light was nice. The eerie shiver had gone. Goyle looked around for some means of occupying his time. The Quality Quidditch Supplies store was an idea. Somehow, the Magical Menagerie held more interest to him. Goyle hurried over and entered the shop. Animals of all kinds were displayed in cages. Goyle was quite fond of a Clabbert. He had a cute smile.  
  
"May I see the Puffskein again."  
  
"That's the third time this week, Miss Weasley. Why don't you just buy it?"  
  
"I don't have the money."  
  
Goyle turned and saw Ginny standing next to the cashier's counter, holding a small fuzzy ball that was purring. For some reason, Goyle ducked behind a display case and watched Ginny handle the little puff ball.  
  
"Won't your mum buy her for you?" asked the nice-looking female cashier.  
  
"No," Ginny muttered, pressing the thing against her face. "She says it's too impractical. Guess what? I already have her named. Her name is Wisp."  
  
"I'm sorry you can't get her," the cashier sympathized.  
  
"It's fine," Ginny smiled. "I can always come visit her. Speaking of it, I'll have to come back later. Mum asked me to pick up some floo powder, so I'd better be going. I'll see you in a bit."  
  
"Goodbye," said the cashier as Ginny left the shop.  
  
Goyle rushed over to the table.  
  
"I'm buying the Puffskein," Goyle insisted, pulling money from his pocket.  
  
"This one is saved for someone," the cashier told him.  
  
"I'm buying it for her," Goyle told the cashier.  
  
"You know Miss Weasley?"  
  
Goyle nodded, handing the cashier the money.  
  
"Ok, I'll put her in a carrying case for you," the cashier offered, smiling brightly.  
  
"No," Goyle blurted. "No, you give it to her. Don't say it was from me."  
  
"But," the cashier began, confused, "you don't want her to know that you bought her this thing she's always wanted. Shouldn't I give her your name so she knows who to thank?"  
  
"No, just give it to her," Goyle said, leaving the store happily.  
  
**************  
  
Christmas at the Goyle household was a very boring thing. Gregory Goyle came down for breakfast at exactly eight fifteen. He and his parents proceeded to the family room. Instead of a tree, Bond had set up a vase of baby's breath. After all, a Christmas tree would be awfully messy and Mr. Goyle was allergic to the smell of pine.   
  
Not wrapped, sat all the things, and only the things, he had asked for. No surprises. No disappointments. And no messy paper all over the floor. Greg Goyle has exactly thirty seven minutes to use his new items. Afterward, the Goyle family would head off to the Christmas parade. Greg Goyle would watch the same old people on the same old flying carpets and broomsticks traveling down the same old street. Next came the dragons and unicorns. Nothing new. This parade went on for three hours.   
  
Lunch was at noon. After lunch, Mr. Goyle headed off to work and Mrs. Goyle went to bed with a siesta potion. Greg spent the day fooling around with his new broomstick and chewing carmel candy.  
  
Dinner was promptly at seven in the afternoon. The Goyles had a polite, but sterile, conversation and then they all headed off to bed. This day was the highlight of Christmas holiday.   
  
A/N: Thanks for the info on Blaise Zabini, maybe I'll use her/him in my next story. Nupil, Greg is not going to turn into skin and bones. His mother is just overly..uh..you know. She just thinks Greg should be really big for some reason. I didn't think Malfoy would associate with Greg is he wasn't rich. I was meaning for it to be a flying carpet, but somehow it didn't seem like that when I read back over it. 


	12. Tossed Aside Like An Old Broom

A/N: Sorry about the magic carpet thing then. I didn't remember that it was illegal. Where does it say that anyway?  
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Fealty.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter twelve: Tossed Aside Like An Old Broom  
  
On the first day back from holiday, Goyle didn't see Ginny at all. She wasn't even in her morning classes. Goyle was truly worried. Had something happened to her? Maybe Ginny tripped over the Puffskien Goyle had bought her and broke her leg.   
  
As Goyle was on his way to Herbology, he saw Cho Chang traveling alone. It seemed rather odd since she was rarely seen outside the company of Harry Potter. Goyle thought nothing of the whole thing until he overheard Cho and a short-haired blond talking.  
  
"What's up with you and Harry Potter?" the blonde asked.  
  
"Nothing, naturally," Cho muttered, patting soil down in a pot.   
  
"I mean, what's the deal?" the blonde continued. "You and Harry were hot and heavy before break. Now, you two hardly talk."  
  
"Oh, that," Cho groaned, rolling her eyes. "It's very simple to explain. See, over holiday, I met Jacob Mealey."  
  
Cho let out a long sigh.  
  
"Jacob Mealey is so...."  
  
Cho sighed again.  
  
"He's nineteen, you know," Cho giggled.   
  
"And about Harry?" the blonde urged.  
  
"Oh, Harry thought we were actually something serious," Cho laughed. "He saw me with Jacob and got all upset. He broke it off that instant. Like I actually care!"  
  
"I can't believe he thought you were serious," the blonde said. "He's younger than you are. Like that would ever work out. Honestly!"  
  
Cho and her blonde friend laughed.  
  
Goyle furled his brow and gently placed his baby Elderberry bush into a large pot of soil. Malfoy held his Elderberry up-side-down, watching the little black roots squirm. Crabbe had forgotten to bring his dragon skin gloves to class, so he refused to touch his Elderberry. Instead, he just poked it with a stick. Suddenly, one of the black roots latched on to Crabbe's arm. Crabbe screamed like mad.  
  
"Mr. Crabbe, why aren't you wearing your gloves!" yelled Professor Sprout.  
  
Crabbe jumped up and ran around the greenhouse, the Elderberry still clinging to his arm. He kept screaming about how much it burned. It was Crabbe's own fault.  
  
"Crabbe, calm down!" ordered Sprout. "You're just making the Elderberry more defensive."  
  
Crabbe kept yelling, running right out of the greenhouse. Sprout ran after him.  
  
************  
  
Goyle finally saw Ginny in Potions. She didn't look ill at all. In fact, she looked happier than Goyle had ever seen her as she talked to Mudblood Granger. Ron and Harry sat nearby them, Harry looking less than contented. Goyle really wanted to talk to Ginny, but he didn't think he should.  
  
Distracted by Ginny's beautiful smile, Goyle let his potion boil over. Malfoy yelled at him. Snape, on the other hand, ignored the mishap totally.  
  
"I'll clean it, Professor," Goyle promised, getting up and running out of the room.  
  
He made his way to the nearest broom closet. He opened the door and, with much difficulty, climbed in, grabbing a mop. The door shut behind him. Goyle pushed things aside and made a big racket trying to turn around. When he tried to pull the door open, the doorknob came off in his hands. Then he pushed on the door. It was locked.  
  
"Goyle?" called Ginny's voice.  
  
He bent down and looked through the hole where the doorknob was supposed to be. He was about to answer her when...  
  
"Ginny!" Potter called, jogging up to her.  
  
Ginny turned to look at him, surprised.  
  
"What are you doing out here?" Potter asked, looking around for an answer.  
  
"I was looking for Goyle," Ginny explained. "I haven't got to see him in a while."  
  
Goyle was surprised that she had missed him. He wanted to bust out of the closet, but how would that look? Goyle locked himself in the closet. He felt so embarrassed.  
  
"Are you and Goyle a thing?" Potter asked, glancing at the ground and putting his hands in his pockets.  
  
Ginny looked around the corridor. She, then, looked at Potter and said, "No, we're just friends."  
  
Goyle sat on an up-turned bucket, wishing he hadn't been there to listen. She didn't like him anymore than a friend. It was very disturbing. At least she did consider him a friend.  
  
"Goyle's a Slytherin!" Potter exclaimed. "How can you be friends with him?"  
  
"Goyle's different," Ginny defended. "He's changed."  
  
Goyle smiled at this. Ginny was standing up for him. Goyle couldn't help but think that she must care.  
  
"I've changed, too," Potter said quietly, stepping toward her and looking into her eyes.  
  
Ginny stared up at him, a look of disbelief on her face. Goyle got off his bucket, still bending over to see through the door knob hole. His heart was pounding uncomfortably. This couldn't be happening.  
  
"Ginny," Potter muttered sadly, "I have been so stupid, so blind. How could I not have seen the treasure that sat before me all along?"  
  
Potter touched Ginny's face. Unlike with Goyle, she didn't flinch. Instead, she closed her eyes and tilted her face against his hand. Potter slipped his arm around Ginny and pulled her into a kiss. Ginny looked limp for a moment, and then she threw her arms around Potter's neck.  
  
Goyle fell to his knees, clutching at the wall to find something he could hang on to. Though he didn't want to see anymore, Goyle's eye stayed glued on the couple. He felt weak inside and his hands began to shake. It was horrible.   
  
Something small and wet ran down Goyle's face. He immediately wiped it away and saw that it was a tear. 


	13. They All Lived Gratified Ever After

A/N: Ameria, I tend to write Cho as a bad character becuase in the books Harry likes her instead of Ginny and I'm usually a Harry/Ginny fan. So, Sorry if my Cho more man than J. K. Rowlings'. As for Ginny, I disagree with you. Over the years not yet written by J. K. , Ginny has grown extremely fond of Harry and loves him more than anything. And about the dance in the fourth book, it's not like Harry rejected her, but she had to go with soemone else because he asked first. I'm sure if it were any other circumstance, she would be quite upset if Harry went with someone else. I know you told me beforehand not to take affense, but how can I not? That is how I see the characters.   
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except Fealty.  
  
LOVE IS ONLY FOR THE STRONG  
  
Chapter Thirteen: And Everyone Lived Gratified Ever After   
  
"I'm so sorry, Gregory," Fealty told him, sympathetically. "I guess you could try to win her back."  
  
"No," Goyle muttered. "Ginny loves him, not me. If he wants her too, then they should be together."  
  
"That's a very mature attitude," Fealty complimented. "I'm very impressed how you changed your life around."  
  
Goyle just lowered his head and shrugged.  
  
"You know, Goyle," Fealty began, "when I was your age, I was friends with a guy named Lucius. I did everything he ever asked me to, but I was completely under-appreciated. I finally realized that I could be my own man and I didn't have to do what he said anymore."  
  
"Are you tryin' to tell me somethin' 'bout Malfoy?" Goyle asked.  
  
"Catch on quickly, don't you?" Fealty smiled.   
  
"You sayin' 'cause I'm not as dumb, I don't have to hang with Malfoy?" Goyle asked, thinking about it.  
  
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Fealty told him. "I think it's time you became your own man."  
  
"Without Ginny, what d'I have to go to?" Goyle demanded.  
  
"Don't worry, Gregory," Fealty said kindly. "I have a feeling that everything is going to work out just fine."  
  
Goyle shrugged, leaving the room. He wasn't sure if his visit there had done any good. Usually, he came out with some sort of insight. There was the idea of leaving Malfoy. After all, what was so great about Malfoy? It seemed to Goyle that Malfoy was just a Marvolio from Twelfth Night, a Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice (before he liked Elizabeth, of course), or a Prince Humperdink from The Princess Bride. Malfoy wasn't worth anyone's time. Fealty was right. Goyle needed to be his own man.  
  
************  
  
"Where've you been?" Malfoy demanded as Goyle entered the Slytherin common room. "Off with your girlfriend again? Honestly, Goyle, you worry me. Have you been using my advice with her?"  
  
"No," Goyle said, walking up to where Malfoy lay on the couch.  
  
"C'mon, Goyle," Malfoy muttered. "Take advantage of my knowledge. I know these things."  
  
"You don't know!" Goyle blurted.  
  
"What?" Malfoy shouted, sitting up. "What did you say?"  
  
"You don't know nothing 'bout Ginny," Goyle grumbled.  
  
"Ginny?" Malfoy repeated. "You have been wasting your time with a Weasley?"  
  
Malfoy seemed beyond belief. Crabbe sat nervously looking from Goyle to Malfoy.  
  
"You don't know nothing 'bout her," Goyle said.  
  
Malfoy just glared and said, "Have you gone mad, you stupid lug!"  
  
"I ain't mad and I ain't stupid!" Goyle exclaimed.  
  
"You 'ain't'?" Malfoy scoffed.  
  
"Have you read Shakespeare and Austen?" Goyle asked. "I have."  
  
"Shakespeare and Austen?" Malfoy repeated. "Who the heck are they?"  
  
"Great authors!" Goyle replied.   
  
"I knew when I saw you reading that stupid muggle crap, that you were sure to go down hill," Malfoy spat at him. "Fine! Spend your time with that Weasley scum, but don't you come crawling back to me!"  
  
"I won't!" Goyle promised.  
  
"Get out of my sight, mugglelover!" Malfoy yelled.  
  
"No problem," Goyle grumbled, walking off.  
  
"Tell your repugnant girlfriend that you two deserve each other," Malfoy called after him.  
  
Goyle stopped and balled his fists. Anger rose up in him. Quickly, he sprinted over to Malfoy and laid him out with one punch across his pointed face. All who were lingering in Slytherin common stared with shock. Crabbe knelt down and tried to revive Malfoy. Goyle just walked off.  
  
************  
  
Goyle was shunned by Slytherins and called to Dumbledore's office to discuss what happened. He was surprised how understanding Dumbledore was about the whole thing, especially when Goyle told him about Malfoy insulting Ginny. Goyle was assigned detention to, as Dumbledore put it, "satisfy the rules." Goyle didn't mind detention. It was worth it.  
  
After a couple hours cleaning the trophy room, Goyle went to the library and picked out a nice book. He had a strange happy feeling about the situation with Malfoy.  
  
"What are you reading?"  
  
Goyle lowered his book and looked at the cute redhead who stood before him. It was interesting how Goyle use to seek Ginny in the library and now it was her finding him there.  
  
"Called 'All I Have to Give'," Goyle told her, looking back at the book. "Ever read it?"  
  
"I don't believe I have," Ginny admitted, sitting next to him on a small reading bench. "Tell me about it."  
  
"'Bout a man who gives all and saves the life of a girl," Goyle explained. "But she likes this other guy who's really charmin' and the first guy's not."  
  
"That's very sad," Ginny commented. "I hope it ends better."  
  
Goyle just nodded, afraid to look at her. He kept wondering if he should ask questions like, "So, you and Harry Potter, huh?" or "I guess you're with the man of your dreams, aren't you?" Of course, the pain of the subject prevented him from uttering such words. At the moment, Goyle just wanted Ginny to leave so he could attempt to think of something else. No such luck.  
  
"So, I heard about Malfoy," Ginny said nervously. "Tough luck."  
  
"Not much," was Goyle's reply. "I was sick of him."  
  
Ginny cracked a small smile.  
  
"Why did you punch him?" she asked.  
  
Goyle just shrugged. He knew why, but felt stupid telling Ginny that the whole thing was about her, especially now that she was with Potter.   
  
"I'm glad you did punch him," Ginny giggled, scooting closer to him, "though I am a pacifist."  
  
Goyle put down his book and cracked his knuckles as a nervous habit. He had never had Ginny so close to him, except when they were dancing. What Goyle would give for it to be before Christmas again, back before Potter ruined everything. Goyle wanted so badly to hold Ginny in his arms, but she was another man's girl now.   
  
Goyle stood up and began to walk away.  
  
"Where're you going?" Ginny asked.  
  
Goyle just shrugged as he kept walking toward the exit of the library.  
  
"Goyle...I mean, Greg," Ginny blurted. "I'm not with Harry."  
  
Goyle turned around to look at her. He couldn't believe what he had heard. Ginny was now standing, looking quite nervous. She glanced about the room for help. Goyle didn't understand.  
  
"Why?" he asked. "You love him and he loves you."  
  
"Well..I just..well," Ginny sputtered, finding it hard to say something. "I thought I loved him, but I didn't."  
  
Goyle raised an eyebrow, still confused. Ginny continued to avoid Goyle's eyes nervously. Suddenly, Goyle saw a tear glimmer in her beautiful brown eyes.  
  
Ginny slowly walked up to Goyle, saying, "I have been confused for so long, I didn't know what I wanted or who I loved. When Harry kissed me, I felt different. It was like he wasn't the one I had wanted to be there with. I wanted you to be there."  
  
"What?" Goyle demanded in shock.  
  
"Greg, I love you," She said, throwing her arms around him and starting crying into his robes.   
  
Goyle held her close, still unable to react. Finally, he pulled away and looked down at her. Ginny clutched Goyle's robes with her delicate hands and pulled him toward her. Her eyes remained starring up into his until their lips met. Suddenly, everything Goyle had ever heard or known finally made sense. It was like the cloud of confusion had broken up to let the light of love and understanding shine down on him. And Ginny was the one to make it all possible.  
  
The End 


End file.
